I'd Do Anything
by Hermione Baudelaire
Summary: Sequel to 'Everywhere' and 'God Must Hate Me.' Were you curious about what Isadora was thinking in TVV? OF COURSE YOU WERE! Right? If not, I'll throw goldfish at you. Please R&R UPDATED! WHEE!
1. Chapter One

Ahem. I just wanted to say how hard I have worked on this installment of Isadora's secret musings. First, I walked through a cold, dark, pouring rainstorm to a library that had one of the few copies of _TVV_. It's kind of embarrassing to walk through the children's section, when I prefer to stay in the Young Adults section. Than, to get to the computer, my parents forced me to eat this disgusting weird dinner. But I hurried really fast, just for you wonderful readers. So, here I *finally* am, _TVV_ is propped up against the keyboard, I have time to type, and I can finally begin...

(Eek! I'm whiny!)

Okay. This is the third part of what I guess has developed into a trilogy. It's named after the song by Simple Plan(**Disclaimer: the song's not mine**) and I will post the lyrics at the end of the story, like always. Anyway, I've rewritten _Book the Seventh: The Vile Village_ (**Disclaimer: the books aren't mine**) from the point of view of Isadora Quagmire. In the book, the third, I lost control of my fingers while typing and they added some stuff that *gasp* wasn't in the book, but that's not until the end. (Nothing too drastic...) 

Returning readers will know that in each chapter I hide the initials V.F.D. (For example, in _God Must Hate Me_, Isadora said "**V**ery **f**unny, **D**uncan." If you find the V.F.D, just say the phrase containing it in your review, and then the next chapter will be dedicated to you, having your name in **bold** and _italic_.) I think that about covers everything.

**_WARNING: THIS STORY, BEING WRITTEN BY AN ISADORA/KLAUS FANATIC, INCLUDES LOTS OF ISADORA/KLAUS, BUT IT'S ALL IN HER (ISADORA'S) HEAD..._**

(People have complained before.)

Yes, I'm stalling. I don't want my stories to be done. I've really enjoyed writing these. I guess you guys might want to read them, though....

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                                    **_Chapter One_**

            "Duncan?" I grabbed my brother's shoulder. "Duncan! Wake _up_!" Duncan Quagmire is my brother. Well, triplet brother. There's two us, but we _are_ _not_ twins.

            Don't ask.

            Just don't, okay?

            "What is it?" he mumbled sleepily, blinking around the tower, which we were cramped into. His wide dark eyes, the same as mine, were filled with sleepy confusion.

            "I woke up and you were asleep."

            "Jeez, Izzie, I thought you were gonna say something important. Maybe we'd gotten out of this stinky, tiny, ugly room. Something like that."

            I moved over a pile of Count Olaf's dirty laundry to sit on a stool. The stool was missing a leg and I wobbled dangerously. "No such luck."

            He looked around. "God, how I am I supposed to fall back asleep in a place like this?"

            I saw his point. The tower, where we'd been staying for a week, was not a pleasant spot to rest in. It was not pleasant at all, in fact. "Things could be worse. At least we have our notebooks." I touched my black notebook.

            Can I tell you about my notebook? I _love_ my notebook. It's black. The cover is black, and the front and back covers are bound by silver coils of metal. 

            Inside, the pages are a wonderful, fresh, pure white, waiting for poems and thoughts and doodles. They had flowing, perfect blue lines, and strong red margins. Not pink. Red.

            On the inside front cover, it says '_To Isadora—Happy thirteenth birthday! XOX Mum Dad Quigley Duncan_.' There's no commas or anything, everybody signed their name.

            On the first few pages are my pre-fire poems. Kind of sappy, happy, crappy (heehee—rhymes!) little couplets. Than are my post-fire poems. Not too happy. Kind of depressed, uh....what rhymes with depressing, gloomy, and dark? Ah, well. Than are measurements for things in Prufrock. Than there are (sigh) my poems about Klaus. Klaus Baudelaire. We met him when Duncan, me, and Klaus and his sisters all went to Prufrock Preparatory School. It was love at first sight...for me...I have honestly _no _idea what he thought. In fact, up there in the tower, I still didn't. I'm normally not too shy (just ask Duncan,) but Icouldn't bring myself to tell Klaus how much I liked him...Then there were the few things I wrote in the elevator shaft, (Count Olaf, a pyromaniacal fortune-stealer had hidden us down there when he was trying to catch the Baudelaires. He wanted our families stupid sapphires...) and than everything I had written up to the point where we were now.

            I hadn't written any poems lately. I just wasn't...(what's that word?)...inspired. Moved. You know?

            Anyhow, I still loved my notebook. It was really special. I sound dumb, but I love writing things in the crisp blue lines. It makes them more...organized. Easier to control. With my black notebook and the sparkly purple glitter pen that Duncan and Quigley gave me last Valentine's Day, I could sort my life out into rhyming words and make it livable.

            I read over the first few poems in the notebook and felt a few tears trickled down my cheeks. I had been so happy then. We all had. What had happened? Why had it happened to _us_? We didn't deserve it! We were good.

            I sighed. Suddenly, my reflective thoughts bounced out of my head. I heard footsteps on the stairs. Duncan and I looked at each other like two deer frozen in a pair of headlights. About to be run over.

            We huddled together as Count Olaf and that woman who was always following him around stormed in. They were smiling gleefully.

            "Good news, orphans!" said the woman. "We've found out where you're little friends are this time! We'll have their fortune before you can say 'in!'"

            "Yes," interjected Count Olaf. "We'll have to hurry before they leave again! But don't worry! We won't leave you here alone!" The fat person came in, assisted by the other associates. They were carrying something very big and bronze. "They are going to be kept in a house at the edge of a village full of crows. Everybody there loves them! So, to prove out devotion to crows, we will present them with this fountain!"

            I noticed it was shaped like a bird. Suddenly, as he stopped talking and the woman started, I realized it. I was very faintly, dimly aware of her lipsticked mouth moving and both of them gesticulating, but all I head was a voice in my head going _Isadora, they're going to put you into that ugly metal thing. They're going to lock you up. They're going to keep you in there._ I was, as you may have guessed, a wee bit claustrophobic after the previous incidents.

            But than another phrase hit my brain and I started to smile. _Isadora, they're going to lock you up in that thing. You will be within twenty miles of Klaus Baudelaire_.

            Than they pulled us into the fountain-thing. We were too dazed to struggle much. I leaned against Duncan, thinking about small, tight, dark spaces....and Klaus.

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I hope you like it! I promise *hand over heart* the next chapters will be 

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I swear. Well, I guess that covers all of it. 

**GOLDFISH ROCK!!!**

Kirby 


	2. Chapter Two

I'm back! And so are you, 'cuz you're reading this chapter, dedicated to the marvelously clever readers:

**_Sara and her Pinkys_**

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**_elfinemerald_**

They all found the V.F.D, which was, for your information, in the third paragraph from the bottom: "_I was **v**ery **f**aintly, **d**imly aware of her lipsticked mouth moving..."_

So, here we go.

**_Chapter Two_**

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Tinkle. Tinkle. Splosh. Tinkle. Tinkle. Tinkle. Tinkle. Tinkle. Tinkle.

          Another busy day in the life of the Quagmire triplets! We were both leaning against the walls of the fountain, trying to ignore the watery gurgles of the fountain. For the first, say, five minutes of living in a fountain it sounds like flower fairy bells, as they frolic in the meadow where the pink bunnies play all day under the rainbow with sunshine and merry glad little butterflies. 

          Than it just makes you want to go pee.

We were both scribbling in our notebooks. "Duncan?"

          "Yeah?"

          "What starts with E and describes Klaus Baudelaire?"

          "Pardon?" Very frazzled, Duncan looked over towards me.

          "I'm writing an acrostic poem."

          "A what?"

          "An acrostic poem. See," I held out my notebook, "you write the name or noun or verb or whatever downward like this:

**K**

**L**

**A**

**U**

**S**

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**B**

**A**

**U**

**D**

**E**

**L**

**A**

**I**

**R**

**E**

          'Than, you write an adjective or rhyming line describing whatever the poem is about. One line or word for each letter. Like so. I think Klaus Baudelaire is Kind, Likeable, Amiable, Unbreakable, Smart, and..."

          "Okay, Isadora, I get the point," said Duncan testily.

          "Believable, Authentic, Unfortunate, Delightful..." I continued as though I hadn't heard him.

          "I understand." He was getting angry.

          "Enchanting, Loveable, Attractive, Interesting..." I ignored him.

          "I get it!" His voice echoed off the tiny metal space.

          "Reliable, and...well, I'm stuck on the last 'E'"

          "Okay..." said Duncan, obviously glad I was finished.

          "Can you help me?" I asked.

          "Um...well, see I was taking notes on...um, something very important...and I can't really—" he stuttered, trying to find an excuse.

          "Energetic! Okay, he's Kind, Likeable, Amiable, Unbreakable, Smart, Believable, Authentic, Unfortunate, Delightful, Enchanting, Loveable, Attractive, Interesting, Reliable, and Energetic!" I took a deep breath. "Wow. That took a long time to say." I leaned back against the wall.

          "Well, I'm so thrilled you took the time and effort," said Duncan sarcastically.

          "Here, I can write one about you. Dull, Uninteresting, Normal—Not!, Crazy, Abnormal, and Nutty."

          "Shut up. Sometimes you can be so Ignorant, Stupid, Anomalous, Dumb, Odd, Raving, and Anger-inspiring!"

          Well. I'm sure you can see that that's not very fair. Duncan wasn't supposed to copy me and write poems. Especially crappy ones. I shook my head angrily. I was about to call him an Abnormal Stupid Sissy when I got an idea.

          "Hey! We could use an acrostic poem to tell the Baudelaires that we're here!"

          "You want to tell Klaus you think he's Kind, Likeable, Amiable...and,um.."

          "—Unbreakable, Smart, Believable, Authentic, Unfortunate, Delightful, Enchanting, Loveable, Attractive, Interesting, Reliable, and Energetic. No. To tell them that we're in the fountain."

          "What do you mean? We Are Here? That just says 'WAH.'"

          "No! I just thought maybe we could hide an acrostic message telling them where we were and than we could..." my voice trailed off. 

          "Email it to them?"

          "No! Send it or something."

          I missed Duncan's reply do to the squawking and chirping as the crows landed on the fountain. We both held up our notebooks to protect us from their...their...oh, you know.

          "THE BIRDS!" yelled Duncan.

          "YUP, THAT'S WHAT THEY ARE!" I yelled back.

          "NO, FOR THE MESSAGE!"

          "WHAT?!"

          "I'VE DONE RESEARCH ON MIGRATORY CROWS! THEY'LL FLY OVER TO THE TREE!"

          "SO?"

          "OLAF SAID THAT THE TREE IS BY THE HOUSE WHERE THE BAUDELAIRES WILL BE!"

          "Oh!" The birds had flown away and I could speak normally. I hugged Duncan tightly. "Duncan, you're a genius!"

          "I wish you'd notice it more often," he said, trying to pry me off him.

Yay! Today is a good day! The radio's playing a song I like, and we got our school picture back. My school picture is nice, I think I'll send it to Tom Felton (I've sent him zillions of letters already, including a birthday card and gift,) because it's my only school picture where I look remotely human. In the class picture, I'm blinking and starting to smile and my hair looks like crap...oh well, go figure. No! Wait! Don't go...review!

Everybody who gives a review with the initials V.F.D. hidden in it gets goldfish. Mmm...goldfish. Boy, I love those things...

Goldfish are yummy and orange,

_Kirby_


	3. Chapter Three

This chapter is dedicated to:

**_Coffee Luv _**(Yay! You get goldfish!)

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**_phred doesn't like you_** (I'm updating now...)

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**_Jade Roxanne_** (Thanks for reviewing...about your password...have you tried entering your email on the log in screen and checking the little 'forget password' box? I don't know, just a thought...I **_HOPE_** it works! I miss your stories and I doubt I could continue w/out mangling them into Isadora/Klaus stories...good luck!)

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**_Iris Violetta Frankenmeyer _**(Lucky you, no school! Yeah, the Baudelaires are so..._happy_...scary-ish...Lord of the Rings rules!)

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**_Kates Cousin _**(!)

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**_Eris11_** (Thanks! ^_~)

Goldfish are given to:

**(All of the above ppl)**

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**Bri of VFD** (Wow—that was very creative! And cool!)

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**Sam **(*Sigh* Tom Felton...mmmmm....)

And **phred doesn't like you** gets a muffin!

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So...here we go, chapter three!

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**_F_**_or sapphires we are held in here,_

**_O_**_nly you can end our fear._

**_U_**_ntil dawn comes, we cannot speak,_

**_N_**_o words can come from this sad beak._

**_T_**_he first thing you read contains the clue,_

**_A_**_n initial way to speak to you._

**_I_**_nside these letters, the eye will see,_

**_N_**_earby are your friends, and V.F.D._

          Like it? I wrote it. I was rather proud, at the time, as we wet the paper and rolled it around the crow's scaly leg. I still am, kind of, that I could write in a dark, slippery place like that. I mean, wouldn't you be?

          Well, I was.

          As I watched the crow fly off, I smiled. I hoped that Klaus would get the letter. I hoped that they could rescue us. I hoped for so many things...and they seemed to be coming true?

          Sometimes, it feels nice to be wet. For example, if it is a hot day and you go to the beach. Other times, it is very unpleasant. In my experience, up to the day I woke up in the fountain, the most unpleasant sort of wetness was wet socks. (A/N: I HATE WET SOCKS!) That day, I learned another sort of unpleasantness.

          You have not been uncomfortable until you have woken up, hungry, in a dark, cramped space, wearing a thick, wet, wool sweater. Imagine doing it every day. Ick.

          Duncan, Quigley, and I had gotten the sweaters for our birthday. They had been a gift from our grandmother. We had gotten them for our twelfth birthday. I'm thirteen now, by the way, so you can imagine how long a time that is to wear something like the sweater.

          They were awkward and cumbersome, but our parents declared that we _had_  to wear them. "Just be polite," said our mother. "Wear it until you grow out of it," said our father. I do not think I will ever grow out of my ugly sweater.

          After the fire, we wore them to remember our lives before the fire. I'd rather that we had something nicer, like our notebooks, but the orphan's shack got cold in the nights, so it wasn't really like we had any choice. And of course, lately it didn't look like we'd have much time to shove them on a hanger and hide them in the back of the closet, if you know what I mean.

          I suppose now you can _begin_ to imagine what it felt like to come conscious wearing that enormous, cumbersome thing. Can you ever imagine it _wet_? And dirty? And can you picture waking up in _that_, cold and lonely, tired and sore, with no idea where or when it was?

          Didn't think so.

          I woke to the sound of dripping water.

          "Duncan?" He'd better be there, too. Or else I'd go mad. Well, if Klaus was there, maybe not _very_ crazy, but still.

          I heard a kind of snuffling noise. Oh. My. God. I was stuck in this metal box thing with some kind of evil, flesh eating animal. I let out an involuntary scream

          "Shit, Isadora! I was _sleeping_!"

          Oh. It had been a snore.

          "You're _asleep_?!"

          "I was," came the annoyed, yet somehow reassuring sound of Duncan's voice. "Until you yelled like that."

          "How could you sleep _here_?" I asked disgustedly, suddenly wanting to give him a hug for being there. At least I wasn't alone.

          "I woke up. I banged on the walls. There's no way, Isadora, to check if they've got the messages. We'd better just act the same. You were still asleep. I looked around. There was nothing else to do." My eyes were starting to adjust, and I saw him shrug.

          "Duncan, why didn't you wake me up?" I asked, shaking my head. "We could have _both_ yelled. Then it'd have been louder, at least."

          He shrugged. I sort of went all soft when Duncan shrugged, and I leaned over and hugged him.

          There is one thing a person carries with them no matter what happens. Somebody can be in the most terrible of circumstances, but that thing will never leave them. Besides courage and love and determination and stuff. That thing is somebody's personal smell.

          Duncan, I noticed, still smelled like newspaper print. (A/N: This might sound like it was easy to think up—it wasn't. _You _try walking around all day, smelling random things to use for a story. People start to look at you funny...) I breathed in his very familiar smell well he squirmed and wondered aloud about why I was behaving so oddly.

"Oof! God—what?"

          I remembered that the way Duncan smelled was also how the room he and Quigley shared. My room was across the hall, we shared a bathroom, for those of you who are _very_ curious. They had a bunk bed. Before bedtime, I would always go in their room we would all sit on the bottom bunk. (That was Quigley's, for all you curious people.) 

          I remembered how we all had cutesy-cute nicknames for each other that I'd made up. Quigley was Q-tip, (see, his initials were Q.Q., he had a 'Q' on each 'tip' of his name,) Duncan was Donut, (Duncan Donuts, see? Yeah, it's not funny even when you explain it,) and they called me Izzie (you've got to be _really_ thick for me to have to explain _that_ one!)

          I remembered how we'd sneak cookies and stuff into their bedroom and than we'd eat them together and just be...well, it sounds corny (yeah, like I haven't already,) just be, like, _three_. Three was my lucky number before the fire. Now it's not. I don't have a lucky number. I don't have luck, so why a number? It doesn't seem worth the trouble.

          I remembered eating a cupcake on their bed and laughing. I tried to shake it out of my head, tried to forget how the various frosting decorations felt on my tongue and how afterwards I felt slightly queasy, but I couldn't. I shivered, trying to rattle the happy memory out of my unhappy mind.

          "Are you okay, Isadora?" asked Duncan. (We didn't use the nicknames now.)

          "Yeah...kind of..." I pulled away and sat facing him. 

          Now's time to explain something to you. I am kind of sensitive. Not sensitive as in a healing booboo, or a new layer of skin. Sensitive as in, crying at embarrassing times when you can't think of what to say. Some people giggle. Other people fart. But I have to_ cry_. It's soooo humiliating, and soooo babyish. 

          I could feel my breathing get trembly and my vision get blurry. But it was that feeling that you get, where you want to cry—but you just can't. Like when something bad happens to an acquaintance that you just barely know and can't real feel for. Or when you're listening to a song that's sad, but not _that_ sad. Or when you see on the news that something terrible happened, but so far away it doesn't seem real.

          I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. "I'm _okay_..." No, I wasn't. I hadn't written _one_ poem since we had been taken away from Klaus. Except for that awful acrostic poem and the messages. But no more couplets...just normal couplets...

          Duncan tilted his head. "You sure?" I kind of folded up and sniffled. Duncan squirmed awkwardly and patted me on the back gingerly. "Aww, don't _cry_." He sounded sort of embarrassed.

          "It's not your fault," I whimpered. "I'm (gaspy breath) okay. I'm (sniffle) _okay_! Leave me _alone_!" I tried to squirm away.

          "I can't. It's too cramped in here."

          Okay. That was _so_ obvious, and _so_ uncalled for. But all of a sudden it sounded really crazily funny. You know what I mean, when a lame joke, or something that was meant to be serious just makes you burst out laughing.

I started giggling hysterically. "Oh...my...god...Duncan...that...wasn't....funny!" I choked between spurts of laughter. Now, you'll notice that whole something-not-funny-being-funny thing only lasts if somebody joins in with you. Which Duncan totally did.

There we were, laughing and rolling around and having an awesome time when suddenly we both stopped and froze.

We heard voices.

Familiar voices.

It was the Baudelaires.

And they were outside _our_ fountain...

Yay! Kind of a cliffe! I'm **REALLY** excited about the next part, 'cuz Lemony wasn't specific about the dialogue...so for the first time I can write dialogue between Isadora and Klaus! *Evil cackle* 

PLEEEEEEEEAAAAAASSSSSSSEEEE review! 

Goldfish to people who review this chapter! (Or muffins, whatever! ;-)! )

Kirby 


	4. Chapter Four

Yes! I can update! We have a snow day! Snow days are awesome, and they never have them here. Well—now we do, I guess! Yay! This is the second-to-last chapter, my stories are all pretty short...I've already typed the ending...and I'm _trying_ to write another Isadora/Klaus fic, but it's kind of hard...grr...I hope you liked this story—these three stories are my favoritest ones I've ever written. Except I didn't really write them all by myself—but hey! Anyway.

Dedicated to:

**_Kates Cousin_**

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**_phred doesn't like you _**(Muffins!)

**_Eris11_** (Thanks! I do that, too. Except not on my stories...yeah. I'm confused.)

Jade Roxanne 

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**_Coffee Luv_**

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Can you find the V.F.D.?

          "I'm very impressed with how hard you three children are working," came a strange man's voice. "When the Council of Elders told me that the village was serving as your guardian, I was afraid that three small children wouldn't be able to do all these chores without complaining."

          Duncan gasped as we heard Violet, faintly but clearly say, "We're used to strenuous exercise. When we lived in Paltryville, we debarked trees and sawed them into boards, and at Prufrock Preparatory School we had to run laps every night."

          I nearly fainted at the sound of Klaus's voice. "Besides, we're so busy thinking about the couplets that we've scarcely noticed our work." They had gotten the poems! Yes! Soon they would find the message, I knew Klaus would! He was too clever for it to elude him, he would find out and rescue me!

          _Correction: _They_ would rescue _us, I reminded myself, blushing.

          "I thought that's why you were so quiet," came the man's voice. "How do those poems go again?"

          "_For sapphires we are held in here, only you can end our fear_," came the sound of Violet's voice.

          "_Until dawn comes we cannot speak, no words can come from this sad beak_," said Klaus's voice. I dizzily grinned at Duncan. _Klaus_ was reading one of _my_ poems...

          "Dulch!" came Sunny's far away, yet unmistakable voice.

          "They're tricky all right," said the man's voice. 

          Suddenly, I guess it took the stranger's voice to do it, Duncan and I lost our giggly smiles and started yelling and pounding on the sides of the fountain.

          "Klaus!" I yelled, banging my fists.

          "Violet!" screamed Duncan, kicking the walls.

          "_Klaus_!"

          "_Violet_!"

          "_KLAUS!_"

          "_VIOLET!_"

          "_SUNNY_!" we both screamed. 

          "_Klaus, Klaus, please hear me_!" I yelled. "_You can't let this happen, Klaus! Are you there?! Can you hear me?! SAVE US!_"

          "_Violet!_" Duncan was yelling. "_Violet, please, please, please hear me! Please figure out Isadora's poem! Violet!_"

          "_Klaus_!" My voice was giving out. "Oh, Klaus, please..."

          They were gone. We had yelled so hard we could barely speak. I leaned against Duncan miserably. We clung to each other, each of us hoping that the other would be safer, surer, and in control.

          A few days later, in glum silence, I sent off the next poem. That morning, I awoke to the sound of voices.

          Blessedly familiar voices.

          "Sunny! Sunny, where are you?" My heart nearly stopped. It was Klaus.

          "Heni! Heni!" It was Sunny! I shook Duncan awake.

          "C'mon, Duncan Donut! It's _them_!"

          Suddenly, light poured in on us. The beak had opened. We could climb out. 

          I looked at Duncan, who looked at me. "You first," we said simultaneously. "No, you," we insisted in unison.

          I shrugged. "Dunca—"

          He shook his head. "No, Isado—"

          I covered his mouth with my hand. "Both of us. Together."

          Trembling, we both reached up and clambered up the slippery wall, hoping that we wouldn't slip and than fall. Oh! I was so close to Klaus I was rhyming things in my mind! I smiled and swung my legs over.

          I was sitting on top of a large, shiny, bronze bird. Water was gushing all around me. The fountain was in the middle of a large stone courtyard, surrounded by impressive buildings.

          I looked down. Squinting up at me were the Baudelaires. Violet was holding Sunny and Klaus stood beside them. I squeezed Duncan's hand and we slid down, my sweater rode up and my skirt got dirty.

          As we struggled out of our sweaters, I suddenly felt conscious of my scraggly wet hair and unbrushed teeth. Yuck! I probably looked like Cousin It, and to my tongue, my teeth felt as though _they_ were the ones wearing soggy, dirty sweaters.

          Had the Baudelaires ever seen me without my sweater? No, I realized, they hadn't! I smiled at Klaus. It felt so free and breezy without the itchy monstrosity on me. I liked the white blouse I was wearing now, too. If I hadn't been wearing the sweater, the water would have made it see-through. Thank god for the sweater. I didn't want Klaus to see me looking slutty.

          "Sunny! Violet! _Klaus_!" I shouted, my voice returning when I needed it. 

          "Baudelaires!" said Duncan, sounding nerdy. You can pick your friends and your crushes and your nose, but not what you want to pick: your family.

          "Duncan!" cried Violet, putting down Sunny and running towards us.

          "Isadora!" yelled Klaus, and he followed her.

          "Quagmire!" said Sunny, toddling over with some help from Klaus.

          I shook Sunny's little hand and half-hugged Violet. Then I was standing face-to-face with _him_. The boy who I'd written poems about since I first saw his face. The boy who appeared to be a dream, walking around and wearing glasses and, now, looking at _me_.

          I nearly shrieked, I was so happy.

          But I did do something I hadn't intended to. And it was way worse. I reached out and (god, it's so embarrassing telling you this,) hugged him. Yeah, how majorly dorky and humiliating can you get?

          I couldn't let go right away, of course, since than he'd think I was just hugging him because I hugged Violet and Sunny. So I just sort of stood there, blushing up a storm and biting my tongue until it bled, too shy to look at his face. 

          First he was kind of tense, I mean, I'd just started _hugging_ him. Or _embracing_, or whatever. (_Embracing_ sounds more romantic, you know? So I'll use that word instead of _hugging_ starting now.) 

          But then—he relaxed. He even kind of _embraced_ me back. Not as hard as I was to him, but I was kind of hugging—I mean, embracing, him too tight for him to do much. 

          So we kind of stood there. See, my head was kind of peeking out over his shoulder. But than I lowered my hands and clasped both of his and turned so we were face to face.

          Now, if my life were a romance movie, (I wish!) and I were the heroine and Klaus the hero (I wish, again!) I would have tilted my made-up face to his lowered one and we would have made out passionately. But my life is so_ not_ a chick flick, and I was so _completely_ not wearing makeup. (Not even lipgloss or chapstick.) 

          And we were the same height.

          And, oh yeah, my _brother_ was watching. Ick! And his _older sister_. (Double ick!) And his _baby _sister! (Triple ick!) Like I'd want to have my first kiss in front of _Duncan_! Ha! As if!

          But suddenly, height, cosmetics, and audience didn't matter. And suddenly, he was all that did. And suddenly (ah, how I love that word!) we were leaning in and I was thinking _THIS IS IT! THIS IS IT!_

          And suddenly, Violet, facing Duncan, turned, saw me and Klaus, and pointed and said quickly, "We can't stay here." _Excuse me, Violet_, I thought, _but I could stand this close to your brother forever..._ "I don't mean to cut short this reunion," _oh, right_, I thought, _that's why you started babbling as soon as you saw us two, _"but it's already afternoon, and Detective Dupin is coming down the street."

Oh my god—it's almost done! I really don't wanna have to finish this, it's my favorite story...grr...Yeah. This part was originally intended to be two separate chapters...but I changed my mind. Could you find the V.F.D.? I didn't do a very good job in it this time...hmm...I'll update by the weekend if you review!


	5. Chapter Five

Okay. I've put it off for long enough. Here it is: the last chapter. And the lyrics to _I'd Do Anything_. 

I'm majorly exicted today, 'cuz DANIEL RADCLIFFE SENT ME A LETTER!!!! OF course, it was in response to one I sent him this summer, but still...

Anyway. Dedicated to:

Whoever was Detective Dupin? Like I could care less. But it seemed to make Klaus and Sunny all tense and worried. So I decided the Detective Dupin was not a person Violet had made up just so Klaus and I wouldn't get to

          I'm blushing as I write this, by the way

          Just so Klaus and I wouldn't get to kiss. Ha! I wrote it!

          "Do you think he sees us?" asked Klaus.

          "I don't know," admitted Violet, "but let's not stick around to find out." _Oh, thanks, Violet! You _don't know_?! I was _this close_ to my first kiss _ever! This close! "The V.F.D. mob will only get worse when they discover we've broken out of jail."

          Out of jail? The title of a quiz I seen Carmelita Spats reading in a magazine flashed through my head: _Is your boyfriend dangerous?_ Oh, my goodness. A well, he probably had been falsely accused. Poor Klaus...

          "Detective Dupin is the latest disguise of Count Olaf," said Klaus nicely. Ahhh. That was where I'd heard that name before. He made me forget things...

          Klaus, not quote-unquote Detective Dupin.

"And—"

          "We know all about Detective Dupin," said Duncan quickly, wasting an extra second of my life that I _could_ have spent hearing Klaus's voice. "and we know what's happened to you."

          _What's happened to_ me,_ Duncan_? I thought. _All I can think about is Klaus. Klaus. Klaus. Klaus. The way he talks, the way he smiles, the way he's looking at me expectantly now waiting for me to say something. Ack! You all are._

"We heard everything that happened yesterday from inside the fountain," I continued Duncan's speech. "When we heard you cleaning the fountain we tried to make as much noise as we could, but you couldn't hear _us_ over the sound of all that water."

          Duncan squeezed the sleeve of his sweater, dripping water on my foot. He took his notebook from under his shirt. "We tried to keep our notebooks as dry as possible," he said apologetically. "After all, there's crucial information in there."

          "We have all the information about V.F.D," I said holding up my notebook, which I had stuffed in my sweater. "The real V.F.D., that is, not the Village of Fowl Devotees."

          Duncan flipped open his notebook and blew on a wet page. "And we know the truth behind poor Jac—" There was a scream from behind my brother. It was two old ladies looking at the hole in one of the fancy buildings labeled 'Jail'. Oh, yeah. They'd escaped from _jail_.

          "They've escaped!" cried an old man. "Rule #1,742 clearly states that no one is allowed to escape from jail. How dare they disobey this rule!"

          "We should have expected this from a murderer and her two accomplices," said an old woman. "and look—they've damaged the Fowl Fountain. The beak is spilt wide open. Our beautiful fountain is ruined!"

          "Those three orphans are the worst criminals in history," continued the man. "Look—there's Detective Dupin, walking down the street. Let's go tell him what happened. Maybe he'll figure out where they've gone."

          "You go tell Dupin," wheezed the old lady, "and I'll go call the _Daily Punctilio_. Maybe they'll put my name in the newspaper."

          They rushed off and we all sighed. "Cose," said Sunny.

          "That was _too_ close," Klaus agreed. "Soon this whole district will be full of citizens hunting us down."

          "Well nobody's hunting _us_," said Duncan. "Isadora and I will walk in front of you so you won't be spotted." Klaus and I were still holding hands. I tightened my grasp.

          "But where can we go?" I asked hopelessly. "This vile village is in the middle of nowhere."

          "I helped Hector finish his self-sustaining hot air mobile home," said Violet. _Huh?_ "And he promised to have it waiting for us. All we have to do is make it to the outskirts of town and we can escape."

          "And live forever up in the air?" said Klaus, his perfect eyebrows clenching together in a frown. I squeezed his hand tighter. Hmm. Maybe I was holding his hand too tight. I patted his hand and loosened my grip a little.

          "Maybe it won't be forever..."said Violet.

          "Scylla!" shrieked Sunny. Whatever that meant, I hope it didn't mean _Isadora, quit squeezing my big brother's hand. We can all see just how desperate you are. Hold yourself together, girl!_

"When you say it like that," said Klaus, "I'm convinced."

          We all nodded, and Violet glanced around quickly to see if anybody was coming. "In a place as flat as this one," she said, "you can see people coming from far away. We'll use that to our advantage. We'll walk along any empty street we can find, and if we see anyone coming, we'll turn a corner. We won't be able to get there as the crow flies, but eventually we'll be able to reach Nevermore Tree."

          "Speaking of the crows," Klaus turned to Duncan and me—me and Duncan—Duncan and I (god, I loathe that dumb grammar rule!) "How did you manage to deliver those poems by crow? And how did you know that we would receive them?"

          "Let's get moving," I said back, "we'll tell you the whole story as we go along."

          We got moving. We kept hurrying down streets and turning corners sharply, as Duncan began to explain.

          "Olaf smuggled us away in that item from the In Auction with the help of Esmé Squalor, and he hid us for a while in that tower room of his terrible house." I clutched Klaus's hand. I hated that room, that house, those people.

          "I haven't thought of that room in quite some time," said Violet, shuddering. "It's hard to believe that we used to live with such a vile man."

          Klaus pointed ahead of us at somebody walking down a street, and we turned. "This street doesn't lead to Hector's house, but we'll double back. Go on, Duncan."

          Duncan didn't need encouragement. "Olaf learned that you three would be living with Hector on the outskirts of this town, and he had his associates build that hideous fountain."

          I picked it up from there. "Then he placed us inside, and had us installed in the uptown courtyard, so he could keep an eye on us while he tried to hunt you down. We knew you were our only chance of escaping."

          We reached a corner and all stopped. Duncan checked for people walking down it, than stared down and motioned for us to follow. "We needed to send you a message, but we were afraid it would fall into the wrong hands. Isadora has the idea of writing in couplets, with our location hidden in the first letter of each line."

          "And Duncan," I continued, "figured out how to get them to Hector's house. He'd done some research about migration patterns in large black birds, so he knew that the crows would roost every night in Nevermore Tree—right next to Hector's house. Every morning, I would write a couplet, and the two of us would reach up through the fountain's beak." I neglected to mention how I kissed the couplets before I wrapped them around the crow's leg. Violet and Sunny didn't need to know. I could tell Klaus later.

          "There was always a crow roosting on the top of the fountain," said Duncan, "so we would wrap the scrap of paper around its leg. The paper was all wet from the fountain, so it would stick easily."

          I  nodded and came up with a poem right then and there:

          "_And Duncan's research was absolutely right,_

_          The paper dried off, and fall at night_."

          "That was a risky plan," said Violet, smiling at my brother.

          "No riskier than breaking out of jail and putting your lives in danger to rescue us," Duncan said, smiling back. "You saved our lives—again."

          "We wouldn't leave you behind," said Klaus, looking at me. "We refused to entertain the notion." I smiled and patted his hand. 

          "Meanwhile," I said, looking into his eyes, "while we were trying to contact you, Olaf hatched a plan to steal your fortune—and get rid of an old enemy at the same time."

          Duncan and Violet started talking about Jacques Snicket. I'll tell you about that, but some other time.

          It's a long story.

          Some old people came up. A few of them were carrying torches. They started yelling and running towards us!

          "Lilillk!" shouted Sunny, crawling quickly down the street. We followed her, running. It felt nice to stretch my legs, to feel wind on my face and in my hair. It felt better to grasp Klaus's hand, running through streets, ducking behind dumpsters and alleys. Sometimes we would have to hide behind something, and we would always lean closer...closer....closer...

          And than be pulled apart by the mob of people chasing us. Finally, we reached the outskirts of town. I kept my grip on Klaus's hand firm, although we were both sweating. He squeezed my hand back, too.

          "Where's Hector?" I asked frantically glancing all over.

          "I don't know," said Violet. "he said he'd be at the barn, but I don't see him."

          "Where can we go?" cried Duncan. "We can't hide anywhere around here. The citizens will spot us in a second."

          "We're trapped," said Klaus. His voice was horse from panic. Since he was holding my left hand, I touched his forearm with my right.

          "Vireo!" yelled Sunny.

          "We'll never run fast enough," said Violet, whirling around to point behind us. "Look."

          The mob was approaching us, with torches and everything. I was so cared, so frightened, that all I could do was squeeze Klaus's hand and hope that we would be alive, together, when this was over.

          Would it ever be over?

*************************************************************

          "There they are!" cried a woman in the front who pointed at us. I recognized her immediately. It was Esmé Squalor. "They have nowhere else to go!"

"She's right!" cried Klaus. "There's no way to escape!" We held each other's hands desperately, despairingly.

          All I could hear was the chaos, pounding around me, rolling in waves. An ocean of anger, and I couldn't swim through it. I was drowning, drowning...

          "Machina!" shrieked Sunny."

          "There's no sign of deus ex machina, Sunny," said Violet, her eyes shining with tears. "I don't think any help will arrive unexpectedly."

          "Ma-chin-a!" insisted Sunny, pointing upwards.

          Floating in the sky was a huge thing. It looked like one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten eleven, _twelve_ green hot air balloons connected with swaying bridges.

          We couldn't take our eyes off it.

          "Here I am!" yelled the voice from the fountain, "and here it is, like a bolt from the blue! Violet, your improvements are working perfectly. Climb aboard, and we'll escape from this wretched place." A ladder unfurled down towards us. "Because my invention is self-sustaining, it isn't designed to come back down to the ground, so you'll have to climb up this ladder."

          Duncan grabbed the end of the ladder and held it still for me to climb up.

          I held Klaus's hand tighter and held it with both hands over my heart, looking into his eyes and smiling softly. "Soon," I whispered so no one could hear, "soon we'll be together and alone, and I can tell you—"

          "I'm Duncan Quagmire, and this is my sister, Isadora," said Duncan quickly. I let go of Klaus's hand and began to climb.

          "Yes, the Baudelaires have told me all about you," said Hector. I hoped nobody could see up my skirt. "I'm glad you're coming along. Like all mechanical devices, the self-sustaining hot air mobile home actually needs several people to keep it running."

          One of the old ladies squawked something that I couldn't hear, and there were sounds of a commotion from below. Hector started talking, but all I could see was the Klaus's tiny figure as I scrambled into the basket, clutching my sweater and my black notebook.

          There was more talking as Hector helped Duncan into the balloon. I shut my eyes quickly, wanting Klaus to be up here. _Hurry, _I silently urged Klaus and Sunny and Violet, _hurry! Come up here, come here_ now!

          Violet began to climb, and Sunny followed. After her was Klaus. (A/N: The picture on the cover, BTW)

          Esmé Squalor kept talking and pulled out a big thing that looked like gun. I clutched my face with both hands. 

          "Drat!" said Hector as the spear she shot from the gun hit a tank and purple stuff that looked like blood started raining out, like the love and fear that was running out of my heart down to Klaus and his sisters. "That's my supply of cranberry juice! Baudelaires, hurry up! If she causes any serious damage, we're doomed!"

          "We're coming as fast as we can!" cried Klaus, as the vehicle floated higher. The ladder shook, and the Baudelaires looked uneasy.

          Some brownish stuff and little tubes fell out as another spear flew up. "She hit our supply of whole wheat flour!" yelled Hector, "and our box of extra batteries!"

          There was more noise, but I wasn't watching. I was leaning over the edge of the basket, looking down at Klaus. He has to come up, he just had to. How could I float in the sky forever without him? How could I _live_ without him?"

          "Baudelaires!" came Hector's voice from beside me. "Hang on for dear life! I'm going to fly even higher, over the crows!" Dear life. The person who was living the dearest life to me was on that ladder, swaying dangerously.

          "No!" came Sunny's tiny voice, and in slow motion, another spear curved towards the ladder. It began to unravel. 

          "The harpoon hit the ladder!" I shrieked hysterically. "The rope is coming unraveled!"

          "Climb faster!" Duncan was screaming, too. "Climb faster!"

          "No." Violet's voice drifted up. "We can't do it. If we keep climbing up, we'll fall to our deaths. We have to climb down."

          "But—" came Klaus's voice. 

          I heard Violet's voice faintly, than Sunny's. The world had gone still and silent, but I was screaming. Screaming, but nobody could hear me. "Hector! Maneuver you invention back down! Duncan and I can lean over the edge and make a human ladder! There's still time to retrieve them!" I envisioned Duncan clasping my ankles as I embraced Klaus in the sky. 

          "I can't," said Hector sadly, looking down. "It's not designed to return to the ground."

          The Baudelaires were picking themselves up from the ground and squinting up at us. _Not. Happening_. said my brain slowly, and I tried to believe it.

          "We could try to climb Nevermore Tree and jump into the control basket from its highest branches," came Klaus's voice. _Yes! Yes! Just we _have_ to be together! We _have_ to! Oh, Klaus, what would I do without _you?

          Violet shook her head and said something we couldn't hear. Than she yelled up at us. "We can't reach you now! We'll try to catch up with you later!"

          "How can you catch up with us later," I cried down, hyperventilating, "in the middle of the air?"

          "I don't know! But we'll find a way, I promise you!"

          In the meantime," yelled Duncan into my ear, "take this!" he threw his notebook over the edge and I did the same. I watched the black cover flutter as it drifted down. The black cover, where it said _To Isadora—Happy thirteenth birthday! XOX Mum Dad Duncan Quigley_ on the inside. The notebook, where I'd doodled _IQ+KB_ and written my best couplets and written a few measurements from class in Prufrock. The notebook where I'd taped Duncan's and my school picture from Prufrock. I looked at the picture of the girl wearing the green sweater smiling hopefully through her bangs and I started crying. Not because the picture was so ugly, but because I would never be that hopeful again. My life wasn't livable without him.

          I threw it down. All my couplets, all my measurements, everything. All the poems I had written about everything and all my notes on V.F.D.

          And than, like the grief that was piercing my heart, Esmé Squalor threw a spear that ripped apart my pages. I screamed in frustration.     

          "Volunteer Fire Department!" screamed Duncan.

          "I love you, Klaus!" I yelled.

          But they didn't hear us. 

          When Duncan gets upset, he tends to get very quiet and extremely pale. Quigley and I both knew that when he got upset, he just kinds of fall into himself and breaths in quick, short, little breaths through his nose you need to hold his hand and talk to him firmly or he just gets more upset, and quieter, and breathes quicker.

          When Quigley got upset, he never really showed it. He would act normal, but Duncan can I could tell right away that he was angry or sad. It was easy to tell, although no one else really could.

          When I get upset, I'm completely the opposite. I can yell and scream and cry forever, until Duncan or Quigley or somebody I trust pays attention to me and listens to what I have to say.

          Nobody was listening now.

          Duncan was breathing so fast he was trembling. I ignored the instinct to go grab his hand and talk. I was just kind of standing there, very, very, very still. I was still shocked. 

          Suddenly, reality washed over me like a tidal wave. I stood for one last moment until it knocked me over. The freezing cold, wet, feeling of terror swirled around me, I started crying hysterically, and yelling out phrases that I doubt anybody could understand.

          I kept sobbing for a long time, I have no idea how long. Suddenly, someone was grabbing my shoulders and shaking me back and forth, yelling something. But I couldn't hear. 

          My world had just tumbled down around me, and the higher the balloon went, the lower my heart plunged.

          _Smack!_ The person who had been shaking me had slapped my face. I blinked and shook my head woozily. It was Duncan.

          "Stop it, Isadora! You have to calm down!" I took a gulp of air and suddenly felt fragile, as weak as a feather in a thunderstorm. "Sit down!" He was leading me to something. I sat down on it and blinked again. All I saw was blurry shapes.

          I blinked for a third time and shook my head vigorously. One of the shapes was Duncan. Another was the man who had been the guardian with the boy who I loved and would never, ever, see again.

          "Izzie! Breathe!" I was breathing fast, too fast. I took a long, shuddery breath. "Just relax, okay?"

          I shivered. "Okay."

          "Now, just think Izzie! Izzie!" he shook my forearm, "Izzie, listen! Okay. We're in a balloon. Over the ground. We're floating. It's a Thursday. It's five fifteen PM. Can you," he shook my arm again, "hear me? Izzie!"

          I shuddered. "Yeah?"

          "Stop it! Listen! Izzie, listen!"

          "Stop saying that nickname! My name's _Isadora_!"

          "Okay, Is-a-dor-a," he said, emphasizing every syllable. "Isadora. Are you all right?"

          "No!"

          "Alright. Izzie, explain why you're crying. Can you talk to me?"

          "Okay." I sniffed. "Klaus...he was down there...and we were gonna kiss...but everybody was always there...and now...I'm never—gonna—see—him—ever—again!" I choked the words out between sobs and than gulped, shaking again. "Okay. I'm okay now. But he's...he's gone...forever!"

          "Izzie. We're up in a nice place. You're with me and Hector. Hector's nice, right, Izzie? We're safe. It's good to be safe."

          I was nodding at his stupid phrases and rhetorical questions, and slowly my shaking stopped. I grabbed Duncan and hugged him. "Thanks!"

          "It's okay. Just get...off...me..."

          Okay. I slipped away from him.

          I shakily stood up to look over the edge of the basket. Ah. It was high. Very high. My stomach flipped like an Olympic gymnast. I turned away.

          I tried to focus on something other than the height. The first thing that popped into my mind, of course, was you-know-who. 

          I knew that no matter what, I would never forget him. I would do whatever I could to find him again, and I wouldn't rest until I did.

          "Isadora?" It was Hector. As I turned to talk to Duncan and Hector, Klaus slipped slowly out of my mind for the moment.

          But not my heart.

          Never, ever, my heart...

**~THE END~**

****

          Oh my god! I can't believe it's all done! These were my favorite stories ever to write, even though I may not have technically written them myself. So...I've started a sequel, say if you want it, it's hard to write about them up in the balloon thing w/out being b*o*r*i*n*g...And I am trying hopelessly to write a songfic. All this and also my mid-TAA fic. And of course they're all—(whodathunkit?)—Isadora/Klaus!

          Thanks so much to: **Ruby Lou** (My little sister, the first person to hear these stories) **Kiki Lynn Amidala Black** (The firstest reviewer of all these stories!)**, Mysterious Shadow Writer** (who gave _Opposites Attract_ an awesome review!)**, Jade Roxanne** (Who gave every story awesome reviews!)**, wizardmagic65** (Thanks for reviewing!)**, kav, Paulina** (who still needs to read this one)**, Coffe Luv** (who gave each story *splendid* reviews)**, TaNsHi** (ditto—I love your D/V fic!)**, billy bob** (My first flame—wow)**, Kelli Granger** (I changed the title...)**, Genemi** (who turned out to not be JT after all...)**, Ally Quagmire** (Who was SO nice to review!!!)**, Sara and her Pinkys** (wonderful reviews)**, M.N.M.** (Thanks! ^_^)**, **and** Eris11**! (All the reviewers of _Everywhere_.) Also, thanks to: **Ally Quagmire, TaNsHi, EvilMicella** (Wow—you always found the V.F.D.)**, Jade Roxanne, Iris Violetta Frankenmyer** (Your reviews are all so interesting! ^_^)**, Sara and her Pinkys** (You give awesome reviews!)**, Silver, Andi, toeshoe88, Coffe Luv, Eris11, GeNeMi**(Who really _was_ JT)**, wizardmagic65** (^_^)**, Elfin Emerald, SpiderSquirrel, **and **Raining Dreams** (The reviewers of _God Must Hate Me_.) Also to: **elfinemerald, Coffe Luv, Kates Cousin **(^_~)**, Sara and her Pinkys, phred doesn't like you**(Muffins!)**, bookworm39**(Thanks!!! ^_^)**, Jade Roxanne, Bri of VFD** (Wowzies)**, sam**( Tom Felton hasn't written back yet...*sob*)**, Iris Violetta Frankenmyer, Eris11, **


	6. The Lyrics to 'I'd Do Anything'

That was odd. They took out my dedications, the bums.  
  
Sorry. There's NO VFD in the last chapter.......  
  
The lyrics:  
  
Another day is going by  
I'm thinking about you all the time  
But you're out there  
And I'm here waiting  
  
And I wrote this letter in my head  
'Cuz so many thing were left unsaid  
But now you're gone  
And I can't think straight  
  
This could be the one last chance  
To make you understand  
  
I'd do anything  
Just to hold you in my arms  
To try to make you laugh  
Somehow I can't put you in the past  
I'd do anything  
Just to fall asleep with you  
Will you remember me?  
'Cuz I know  
I won't forget you  
  
Together we broke all the rules  
Dreaming of dropping out of school  
And leave this place  
To never come back  
  
So now maybe after all these years  
If you miss me have no fear  
I'll be here  
I'll be waiting  
  
This could be the one last chance to make you understand  
And I just can't let you leave me once again  
  
I close my eyes  
And all I see is you  
I close my eyes  
I try to sleep  
I can't forget you  
Nanana (....)  
And I'd do anything for you  
  
I'd do anything  
To fall asleep with you  
I'd do anything  
There's nothing I won't do  
I'd do anything  
To fall asleep with you  
I'd do anything  
'Cuz I know I won't forget you 


End file.
